


Gevurah

by Progman



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batwoman (Comic), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Judaism, Religious Discussion, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Progman/pseuds/Progman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she first donned the cowl, Kate Kane had accepted that the only connection between her faith and her duty would be through her. That fighting a war on crime in modern day Sodom meant finding those ten good people every single night. That tirelessly proving, again and again, that the she could be Gotham's own personification of the left hand of God was something she'd have to do alone, because no one else was raised to see it that way.  </p><p>Turns out, that had never quite been the case. </p><p>Fitting that she'd figure it out on Yom Kippur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gevurah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RevyDutch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RevyDutch/gifts).



> beta'd by thejmpr.
> 
> RevyDutch and I have been geeking out over Kate Kane for the past few weeks, so this was honestly inevitable. Had a ton of fun with it, and hopefully you will, too!
> 
>  
> 
> _This story takes place after Batwoman Annual #2 and Batman #50 of the New 52 Continuity, but contains no spoilers._

Kate’s stomach gnawed on itself as if it were trying to chew straight through her batsuit. Carbon nanotubes didn’t look or feel all that much like leather, but the interior padding felt the same as her old uniform. Must be some weird kind of muscle memory. That was it. She was so damn hungry that her body snapped years back in time to when she could actually eat part of her suit.

She crouched down on the roof of the apartment building and adjusted the magnification in her cowl (thank you, D.E.O. Also, go to hell. Sincerely, Batwoman), keeping an eye on the group of inebriated women who had just stumbled out of the seedy nightclub across the street.  

Middle-class. No designer labels from the past four years, minimal jewelry --- which meant they couldn’t afford to have it stolen --- and what they did have were cheap knock-offs. But, to the untrained eye, they pulled off the ‘high-class’ look rather well.

 _Probably a bar crawl,_ she thought. _Almost two in the morning, so fourth, maybe fifth stop on their route. Not signaling a cab, or waiting for a car service...right next to the East End border. Guess you were all-but-slumming-it tonight, huh? Must be some club to risk---_

Kate snickered. She couldn’t not once she spotted the big glowing sign slapped on the side of the building. Neon. It was actually called _Neon._ Most likely a front for something huge, but that wasn’t exactly a stretch in Gotham. Just last week she busted a leg of Black Mask’s drug trafficking operation based in the back of a donut shop.

Which is something she could really go for.

As in: Eat an entire display case worth of pastries.

So damn hungry.  Because of course, it was tonight, of _all nights,_ of all the years she’d abstained from fasting on Yom Kippur, it just had to be the one year where she’d felt a need to reconnect with her faith that she couldn’t go on patrol for more than half a block without a few dozen felonies being committed below her. Which, of course, meant that those women had been ‘nudged’ into the crowd gathered around the nightclub, and ‘lead’ back into an alleyway.

Between a loud nightclub where screams would be drowned out, and a building that was still under construction. No escape routes. Either the dirtbags were _smart,_ and she prayed they weren’t, or they got lucky in their choice of locale.  

Kate frowned and leapt off the roof, letting her cape catch the wind and carry her. Gliding, flying, falling, stomach _growling._

 _Focus. No gliding while distracted,_ she thought, reprimanding herself as she passed over the darkened alleyway. Thermal imaging picked up seven in addition to the four ‘clubbers’ she was tailing. And an older model ambulance, the back door open and the interior devoid of heat.   _Three women, four men. Tasers, tranquilizers, bean-bag rounds, batons, body armor, gas masks---all non-lethal? Truck is sub-zero, but not cold enough for Mr. Freeze. Medical M.O., could be kidnapping, but why the fridge---Oh._

_Oh God._

_Organ trafficking._

Kate dove down into the alley, saving her urge to vomit (or in this case wretch) for approximately seventeen hours later, and shook off a sudden flash of nausea. But not before dropping just a bit too low. She threw open her cape, blood red eclipsing the night sky, and landed (more like crashed) on the thug’s stomach, cracking four ribs of his ribs under her boots.

“It’s Batwoman! Take her down!” yelled the one with the stupid top-knot.

Kate tossed two smoke pellets on to the ground, flooding the alley with grey.  She looked over her shoulder at the dazed and terrified group of women, only vaguely aware of the four taser bolts sticking to her electrically grounded suit, and flashed her teeth just before the smog consumed her.  

“ _Run.”_

And they did.

Kate spun back around, using her momentum to duck under a baton that may as well be a tesla coil and smash her elbow into the woman’s nose through the gas mask, breaking it and sending her staggering back. She lunged forward and struck at her shoulders, popping one out of the socket with a scream that turned into a fetal position.  

 _Body armor’s not worth the effort to breach,_ she thought.   _Arms, legs, joints, head trauma._

She fired her grapnel into the wall beside them and launched herself forward, kicking another in the side of the head as she zoomed past.  She caught one of those lightning batons on her gauntlets, snapped it in half and smashed her forehead against the thug’s facemask, shattering her goggles.  Kate threw her over her shoulder and straight into another dirtbag, sending them both to the ground.  She drew a concussive batarang and---

“Fire!”

Bean bags fired at excessive speed crashed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her like she’d been hit dead center by Killer Croc.  She crashed into the side of the dumpster, denting the metal.  Carbon nanotubes were great at defending her against a lot of things, but kinetic energy wasn’t one of them.

Kate groaned and scrambled up to her feet, narrowly avoiding another flurry of bean bags.  Ugh, those _really freaking hurt._ Sloppy.  Amateur. They had thermals, and she hadn’t noticed. She’d survived for weeks in a desert with nothing but insects for food and a little bit of malnutrition was doing this to her? Ridiculous.

Then again, she didn’t have to do the equivalent of a six-hour full body workout routine at the same time, so that might have something to do with her current situation. That, and it was supposed to be a ‘day of rest’, too.  Right. The irony---it was there. It’d be hard not to catch it.

“Gas her!”

 _And that little piece of unfortunate phrasing is really hammering it home,_ she thought.

Kate Kane was a jewish soldier fighting a war during Yom Kippur. Same damn thing that happened to the Israelis back in ‘73. The Day of Atonement, the holiest freaking day of the year, exploited for a massive unified offensive on two fronts.  

Egypt and Syria. Both backed by the Soviets.

Long story short: didn’t work.

Kate brought up her air filter, shielding her snarled lips and exposed skin from any potential airborne toxins, just as green fog, which she recognized as anesthetic gas, threatened to overtake her grey smoke. She scooped up one of the leaking canisters off the ground and whipped it and a batarang at a thug’s head, knocking off the gas mask right before the grenade struck him in the face.

_Five down, two to go._

Tranquilizer darts deflected harmlessly off of her face shield, but that accuracy was going to be trouble. She charged straight towards the shooter and twisted her arm, jamming the gun into her neck. Kate broke the woman’s trigger finger as she forced her to fire, knocking herself out and collapsing like a ton of bricks. Kate propped her up and used her as a shield to block another round of bean-bags, forcing her to stumble back a few steps.

Kate tossed the woman to the ground and rushed the last thug as he drew a rather imposing handgun. Which she was about to come face to face with.  Bulletproof carbon nanotubes or not, a shot from a .45 at point-blank range would give her a nasty concussion, if not knock her out instantly.  She ducked and leaned left at the last moment, grabbing his hand and raising the barrel up out of harm’s way as it fired into the brick behind her.  Kate twisted his wrists until she heard them crack, disarmed him, and kicked him into the wall, binding him with a well thrown set of bolas.

She checked the timer on her HUD.  Two minutes, eighteen seconds.  Not bad for being malnourished.  She fieldstripped the pistol, disassembling it piece by piece and scattering the useless bits of metal to the ground. Before he had a chance to speak, she pinned him by the throat and kneed him in the stomach.  

“ _Talk!”_

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk! For God’s sake please just don’t hurt me!”

“Good.” Kate growled and raised her free hand, letting her taser glove crackle with lightning. A threat. A painful one. “Organ trafficking. That’s what this was, right?”

He started to cry.  Oh, God.  That’s just embarrassing. “Yes!” he blabbered. “Knock them out, keep them cold in the truck, and cut and run! That’s how they want it now! Fresh! Faster to sell because it’s---it’s mobile! Harder to track, too, but I guess…” He shivered.  “Guess not today…”

Kate wanted nothing more than to wring that man’s neck.  Fresh organs?  Only Gotham would be that sick. What, was it ‘made to order’ like a Big Belly Burger? “Who’s the buyer? Where do you dump the bodies?”

“I don’t know! We never know! We get a list, we fill the order, and use a dead drop! Then, poof, gone! I swear, that’s all I know!”

Kate squeezed his neck.  “ _Bodies.  Where._ ”

“There---”  He coughed.  “---aren’t any. It’s...it’s like the buffalo…”

“Buffalo.” Kate’s eyes widened.  “You...you use every part? Is that what you’re saying?” She felt her adrenaline begin to taper off, and her stomach growled again. “ _That you waste nothing?_ ”

“Uhm...yes?”

Kate punched him square in the jaw, cracking it and knocking him out. _Well. That just jumped up to the top of my case list,_ she thought. _And now I have to vomit twice, except not now. Face shield’s still up and the air hasn’t cleared yet. Dying like Hendrix isn’t really how I want to go._

She reached for her burner phone to call the police and, as always, leave an anonymous tip (excluding that one time where Mags was covering for a cop who’d just gone into labor and got stuck at the emergency services switchboard) when she _sensed_ his presence.

“Batman,” she said, turning around.  She’d been getting better at that. No more...sneaking up on… She unsealed her armor and took a deep breath, closing her eyes as her head started to throb.  Dehydration.  Malnutrition.  Half-assing her faith.  Yep, probably that last one. “Give me a second.”

“I already called the police,” he said, surveying the scene.  “There was an eighth in the truck. The truck's insulation masked his heat signature.”

Kate looked over at the truck---Woah, okay, broken windshield and tied up goon. “Thanks.”

“No thanks necessary. I heard you mention a buffalo.”

Kate bit her lip and she heard police sirens in the distance.  “...yeah, we’re going to want to get off the streets for this one.  It’s big.”

Batman nodded and they both fired their grapnel guns onto the roof, pulling them up.  “Copy cat killer?”

“Honestly, I wish it was. Wouldn’t be half as terrifying,” she said as they vaulted over the side of the building.  “Might even make you squeamish.”

Batman narrowed his eyes.  “This isn’t the time for games.”

“I’m not playing one.” She frowned.  “People say that Native Americans used every part of the buffalo, right?  Didn’t waste a thing?” She rolled her hands.  “See where I’m going with this?"

Batman was silent for a few moments.  “You were right. It almost got to me.”

“I didn’t want to be. I was hoping you’d say ‘I’ve dealt with this before’ or something like that.”

“I haven’t.”

“Well. Great.” She pinched her brow, and the sirens grew louder. Red and blue flickering down below them.  “They do it ‘made to order’, so any investigation is going to be difficult, but I’ll start with---”

“Kate, why are you out here tonight?”

Kate raised a brow. Okay. Make it personal, big guy. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re observing Yom Kippur and fasting for the first time in six years, Kate,” he said, his tone growing...softer.  Nostalgic? Wistful? Pained? There was something so different, but familiar. She couldn’t quite place it. “You don’t want to be out here tonight.”

“Crime doesn’t take a ‘day of rest’, Batman.  Neither do I.” She balled her hands into fists. “What, you don’t think I can handle it? Just because you know _every damn thing_ about me, which makes me super uncomfortable, you think that I can’t do my job?  That I can’t serve?”

“No. I know you can, and you will if you need to.  I’m trying to tell you that you don’t need to. Not tonight.”

“Well that’s---” Wait. Wait, wait, _wait a minute._ “Say the name of the holiday again,” she said, her voice even.

“Kate---”

“No.  Say it again,” she said, taking a few steps toward him.

Batman looked away for a split second.  “I don’t---”

“Go on.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.  “Say it.”

“Yom Kippur.”

“Not...Yahm Kipper? Yom Kee-pehr?”

Batman didn’t say a single thing.

Kate tilted her head.  “Well, would you look at that? _Batman_ is jewish.”

“Kate…”

“No, no, we _both_ know that there are only two kinds of people who can actually pronounce hebrew correctly.  Jews, and those that grew up along side us.” She smirked.  “And the second kind _has no idea what they actually mean_.”

Batman sighed.

Kate smiled even wider. He didn’t deny it. It could have just been research, but he wasn’t saying she was wrong. “I have to admit, Batman.  It makes perfect sense.” She shrugged. “After all, you never stop asking questions.”

Batman frowned and then covered his face with his hand. He caught the joke, which was even more proof that she was right. “Kate. Go home. Please.”

Kate slowly nodded.  “Fine.”  He was jewish, there was no escaping that.  And yes, it was an amazing feeling to know that _the damn Batman_ was, well...like her.  It was so unexpected, though. To feel good about that. That they shared a faith, on some level. She turned to leave, but stopped. “You’re out here too, you know.”

“I know.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical to send me home but stay out here yourself?”

“I’m not sending you home.  You’re making the right choice. The only thing I did was show you that you _had_ one.”

“Huh.” Kate considered him for a moment. How long had it been for him? Did he abandon it when he became the Batman? Was it just locked away in some corner of his soul, for safe keeping? Maybe it was just a memory. But, he was clearly in pain. More than usual, almost like he was...guilty.  

Guilt.  Would that work? _Could_ that work?  

“Kate?”

“Call your family in the morning,” she said, staring him down.  “Don’t argue with me. Don’t give me excuses. Everybody has _somebody,_ no matter how estranged or removed they may be.  And if you actually don’t, just drop by a synagogue. Do _something_ .” She put her hands on her hips. “You can stay out here all night if you want, but you _know_ that it’s wrong to keep yourself away from what’s so clearly in your blood.” She gestured between the two of them.  “There’s no hebrew word for coincidence, Batman. Exactly the same as detective work.”

“You’ve made your point.”

“What would your mother think?”

“I said _you’ve made your point.”_ Batman walked over to the edge of the roof, police sirens growing louder.  “Go home, Kate. Just go home.” He looked at her over his shoulder.  “Batwoman. There is _one_ thing I don’t know about you.”

Kate raised a brow.  “Really.”

“Your uniform.  Red holds some of the strongest symbolism in history, but the most common examples, even the uncommon ones, don’t fit. It’s clearly _war,_ but something else as well. Something more.”

“It is.” Kate smirked. “Gevurah. The pillar of severity, judgement and strength.” She shot her grapnel gun across the street.  “Better study up on your kabbalah, Batman.  And I’m not talking about the occult stuff---”

He’d already vanished.

Kate scoffed and launched herself into the air, opening her cape and banking back towards base. He’d been right, on some counts.

She really should be home.

 

* * *

 

Kate tiptoed into her apartment and yawned in silence. Sleeping off-site, with all of her gear, had become an often occurrence lately. Jaime wanted to see her mom, and Kate wasn’t about to let her activities get in her step-daughter’s way ever again. Even if she was all but positive that she was in Metropolis with her father, Kate decided it wasn’t worth the risk.  The bed she’d gotten for the warehouse was decent.  Served its purpose.

But it was lonely. Sterile. It wasn’t home.

“Kate?”

Kate perked up and shuffled out of the entryway and into the studio proper, finding Mags cozied up on the couch, looking over case notes.  “Hey.”

“What’s going on?” Mags gave her a strange look and rushed over to her, feeling her forehead and carefully patting her down. She winced once she got to her stomach and shoulders. Decent bruising from the bean bags and dumpster, respectively.  “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I’m fine, babe. Really.” She took her hand and smiled. “Just...took off early. Sorry if I worried you.”

“Not anymore than you are when _I’m_ at work.”

Kate rested her head on her shoulder.  “Touche, Mrs. Sawyer.” She looked over her shoulder at the case notes, squinting. “Anything I can help you with?”

“You can help me more by sleeping through some of your fasting, _Mrs. Kane._ ” Mags lead her into the bedroom. “I managed to get the day off, so if I’m going to be around your cranky butt for however long it takes for the sun to go up and then down again, I want you well rested.”

Kate collapsed on to the bed and smiled up at her. “You don’t need to do this with me.”

“No, but I want to.” Mags helped her into her pyjamas.  “I’m still on call, and I’m guessing _you_ are, too. Unless Batman started handing out punch cards or you met some mythical hourly quota…”  She leaned down and moved to kiss her on the lips, but stopped, instead moving to her forehead. Because she _remembered_ , and that alone meant so much more. “But mostly, this is important enough that you actually, somehow, came home early. I don’t think you’ve ever done that before.”

Kate sat up and shrugged. “I never knew I even had the option, but I’m pretty sure it’s a once-a-year sort of deal”

Mags sighed and settled down beside her. “Only redeemable on the tenth day of the seventh month, right? Before you ask, yes, I have been doing research.” She cleared her throat. “Let me know if I’m out of line here, but I made an observation.”

“Oh? Do tell, detective.”

“From what I’ve been reading, and I’ve been reading everything I can find, it looks like all you people do is almost die, celebrate that you didn’t, and then eat.”

“Well, isn’t _that_ the story of my life.”

Mags’ eyes widened.  “...oh my God, you’re right.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t think about it too much.”

Mags nodded a few times and then looked down at her, curious. “I’m surprised that Batman was so understanding about this, though.”

Kate bit her lip and grinned, holding in her laughter.

Mags raised a brow.  “What? What is it?”

Kate looked from side to side, as if anyone would actually be eavesdropping in their own home, and leaned in to whisper.  “The Batman is jewish.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. He slipped up.”

“Batman. You’re telling me _Batman_ made a mistake like that.” Mags shook her head and pushed off of the bed.  “Either you’re delirious or he’s getting too old for this.”

Kate huffed and fell on to the pillow. She wasn’t. She’d caught him. She _knew._ “I don’t think it’s hard to believe. You know what it’s like to lose your faith. He sees me, doing the same thing that he does every night…” She yawned and closed her eyes.  “It just might make him remember.  Even someone like Batman.”

Mags laid down beside her and stroked her hair.  “...no hebrew word for coincidence…” she mumbled, just before Kate drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Kate, wake up.”

Kate opened her eyes and saw that her cell was ringing on the nightstand.  “Morning.  Just let it ring. I can’t answer it anyway.”

Mags reached over her and picked up her phone.  “It’s your dad.”

Kate narrowed her eyes.  “...could you be a dear and---”

Mags sighed and answered the phone.  “Good morning, Jake. I’m sorry, but your daughter can’t come to the phone right now. She’s being extremely observant.” She scratched the back of her head. “Okay. I’ll let her know. See you tonight. It’s---you’re very welcome.” She hung up and rubbed her eyes. “Guess who’s going to try extra hard to join the Kanes in breaking the fast?”

Kate’s stomach growled. “It’s not Batman, is it? When I told him to reach out I didn’t mean _me._ ”

Mags chuckled. “Good God, _no._ Just your cousin Bruce. Or, he’s going to make an effort.”

“He’ll cancel.  He always does at the last second and then shows up on the news drunk at some celebrity party,” she grumbled, waving her off.

“You’re probably right. But maybe this time he’ll show up.”

“Yeah.  Maybe.”  

“If I make coffee will you hate me?”

“Only for the next…” she closed her eyes.  “Can’t look at the digital clock. What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“Then only for the next nine hours, babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> They worked it out and got married, clearly, but Sawyer-Kane didn't sound right. Neither did Kane-Sawyer, so I thought, why not just keep the names? I think it works.
> 
> I love writing action, and doing it for Batwoman was an absolute treat! Finding the right balance of her being excessively competent and Batman being "the best at everything" was tricky, though.
> 
> Judaism is inherited maternally so, even if he doesn't practice, Bruce Wayne is jewish. His mom was Kate's aunt, and I've never seen anyone address this, so I did it myself. I just hope I did it respectfully, because whether or not Bruce actually does anything is up to interpretation. I wanted to keep that ambiguous since it didn't sit right with me that he'd just listen to Kate without time to process all that.
> 
> For me, I feel like Kate's trauma pushed her closer to her faith (she's been dropping jewish mysticism references for like a decade now. Seriously, her whole Gevurah thing was lifted directly from her "Elegy" run in Detective Comics) while Bruce just dropped it entirely outside of rare family functions. 
> 
> Oh, and if Kate were to find out Bruce is Batman (and she'd suspect something if he showed up on time to break the fast) this would NOT be how it'd happen. It would be super trite and dumb XD
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, both the end notes and the story! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated :)


End file.
